Street Talk
by Simon920
Summary: Some random encounters around Gotham with Dick Grayson's Robin.


Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Street Talk**

It was a beautiful spring day, sunny, about sixty-five and the winter chill was finally out of the air. Kids were playing in the park, lovers were strolling and all in all it was a great day. Robin was sitting on the marble base of a Civil war statue, just enjoying the patch of sun and relaxing. He'd just finished the paperwork for that drug bust from last night, and he was bushed. He needed to get home, get to bed and serve some serious sack time but right now, well, right now he was just liking the fact that the sun was shining and he didn't have anywhere he had to be. There was no one he had to talk to and no one expecting him anywhere for any reason.

He leaned back, closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth. If he tried just a little bit he could pretend that he was on a beach, hear the rustle of the palm fronds above him and smell the salt water from the gently lapping waved a few feet away. He could almost nod off…

"Holy crap; you're him."

He ignored the sound. Maybe it would go away.

"You are, aren't you? You're Robin." Dammit. He opened his eyes just enough and barely nodded. "Oh my lord, you're the cutest thing! Let me see those eyes of yours Sugar, c'mon, let me see." Unwillingly, he did as asked and looked at the woman. "I knew it—I just knew it! Big blue eyes and I bet you know just how to use them to get any old thing you want, don't you, Sugar? Marcy, Marcy—you get yourself over here and see what I found—aren't those the bluest eyes you ever saw in your life?"

Another woman joined them. "My goodness, if you ain't right about that and where did a little thing like you get that body?" Marcy turned to her friend. "I'll just bet he knows how to have himself some fun Lila, y'think? I could have me some good times just with those shoulders and if the rest of him matches those arms, well, I think we could have ourselves a real party—maybe?"

"He ain't _that_ little, I'm betting. How old are you, baby?"

"Excuse me?" Robin's warning flags were going up but nothing else was, not with these two.

"You heard me—'you're what, fifteen, sixteen? 'You legal, baby?"

"Y'know, Lila—I bet this darlin' has a birthday comin' up some time, right? Everybody's got a birthday—how's sayin' that you and me give him a real nice present? That sound like fun, Sugar?"

Ah jeez. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Sugar, you don't know nuthin' about good until you know about _our_ good—I think you deserve a present after you sent those damn pimps over to Rykers. 'Now, your place or ours?"

"It sound great but I have to be somewhere, okay? But maybe another time, all right?"

"Now, don't you go runnin' away—Lila, isn't that the cutest thing? He's scared a'us—I'll bet this baby's never even himself had a good time. C'mon, Sugar—on the house; we owe you and we ain't takin' 'no' for an answer."

He stood up, really not wanting to hurt their feelings; after all, they actually seemed pretty nice in a weird way. "Tell you what, why don't we go get some lunch across the street? I just pulled an all-nighter and I could really use some food."

"Oh, baby—you need your strength if you're gonna keep growin'" Marcy and Lila giggled at the double entendre until Robin started laughing too.

"You're right there, c'mon."

Seated at a booth, Robin alone on one side and the two ladies across from him, playing with his feet under the table were waiting for their food. "So—how did you, you know, how did you end up doing…this?"

"It's not like anyone plans this, y'know? I mean, you probably didn't plan the whole elfboot thing, right?" She sipped her iced tea through a straw with surprising delicacy. "Shit happens, you zig, you zag and sometimes you end up someplace that you wake up in the morning and you just thing, 'Well, shee-it'. Y'gotta do what y'gotta do, y'know?"

He nodded, agreeing and surprisingly intrigued by what she had to say, interested in how she'd come to the life she had.

"How's 'bout you, baby, how you end up doin' your thing?"

He shrugged and gave them a half smile, "Sometimes y'gotta do what y'gotta do."

The meal of omelets and fries finally over the ladies snuggled closer to Robin, Marcy rubbing his foot under the table and Lila rubbing his bicep until she worked her way down to his thigh. "So baby—let's find someplace private and you'll get you a real nice present—just thankin' you for lunch, y'know?"

He knew he was blushing and it made hi feel like a simp—a very young teenaged simp. "It sounds like it would be great but…"

"Great? Baby, we'll make you feel soooo good you won't never forget us!"

"…But I have to go. 'Sorry, but I really do."

"C'mon, baby—you're just nervous." A light bulb went on over Lila's head. "Shee-it—you ain't never done this before, have you baby? Oh baby—it's past time for you and—I swear—you got yourself two fabulous, top o' the line teachers sitting right here. Marcy—what d'you say?"

"Honey, by the time we're done with you, you'll be able to give lessons yourself—ain't that right?"

Oh crap, Bruce would kill him and Alfred would boil him in disinfectant…He glanced at his watch. "I'm really late…gotta get home." Putting a couple of bills on the table he, barely, managed to extradite himself from the ladies. "'Another time, okay?"

"Sweetie, you can take that to the bank and that's a fact…you sure you ain't got even an hour? I promise we'll make it worth your while…"

"Lila, you leave this sweet baby alone, can't you see you're scarin' him? I tell you what, baby—you come back here in a year and we'll cash in that rain check we just wrote you—okay, baby?"

"Um, sure, okay."

"Now I mean that, baby—one year we'll be here and that's a promise. You hear me?"

"Uh-huh. One year, okay." He made his way out the door, making his escape and smiled his way home.

"Uh, Lila—honey you serious about that 'one year rain check' thing?"

"Hell, yes—you see that body? Shee-it, you give him another year and you and me are in for some fun!"

***

Robin and Wonder Girl were hungry, both in the mood for Italian and didn't feel like moving on to another place when they saw the wait at Roma's.

"I'm sorry, but it will be at least thirty or forty minutes—would you like to wait?"

The two exchanged a look. "That will be all right, thanks."

It was okay, it was a nice night and they could sit on a bench, relax (if they could find a vacant spot) and talk. It was fine, they hadn't really seen one another in a while and this would be a good chance to catch up.

They'd sort of noticed the buzz when they'd walked in, but they got that all the time and had learned how to ignore it years ago. Sort of smile, don't make eye contact and speak softly enough so that no one could hear what you were saying. Then make yourself as invisible as you could, turn into a potted plant or a painting on the wall and don't do anything to attract any more attention than necessary. Soon enough people would pretty much forget you were there or, if they didn't, they'd leave you alone. This was New York; celebrities were a dime dozen and no one wanted to be so uncool as to look impressed.

"We should have changed into civvies before coming here."

"I know, but I've been wearing these clothes so long I forgot. 'Should have stopped long enough for a shower, too."

"That would have been a good idea." But Donna smiled to take the sting out of her comment. Sure enough, no one was paying the least attention to them.

They'd been fighting Dr. Blood and it had been a close thing this time. No one had been seriously hurt, but that was more down to dumb luck than anything else and they both knew it. Garth would be feeling that last hit for a while and Roy was rubbing his shoulder when he thought no one was watching. The good news was that they'd won the day just a few hours ago. The bad news was that the last time they'd eaten was yesterday, hence the wait—they were exhausted and starving but flat-out didn't have the energy to go anywhere else.

"Excuse me, I don't want to bother you but I saw what you Titans did for us—I just wanted to thank you." A middle-aged man was quietly speaking, almost shyly, his wife and a teenaged son next to him.

Donna looked like she was about to cry if she had to deal with anything more right now, not after what they'd been through the last few days so after a quick glance Robin gave a small smile. "Thank you, it's nice of you to say something."

"I didn't want to interrupt but well, 'just wanted to say you kids do a great job." Rob half smiled again.

_"Marsh—party of three, Marsh, party of three. Your table is ready."_

"Oh gosh, that's me." Robin nodded, glad the man would go away now; he was too tired for more than the most basic common courtesy. "Look, would you take my table?"

"Excuse me?"

"You two kids look beat and, golly, I feel like we owe you—go on, I want you to."

"That's nice of you, but it's okay. Thanks, though." Please go away. Please leave us alone."

"I insist, really."

Several people close enough to hear what was happening were watching, too interested and Rob could hear the murmur going through the room. Anyone who'd missed the fact there were two Titans in the room knew it now. And damn—Rob knew how this worked, if they accepted the offer for the table then some paper would get the story and the Titans would get raked over the coals for pulling rank, arrogance and walking all over people waiting in line for their dinner. It would become a PR nightmare.

"That's generous, but really…"

A young couple joined in. "Go on, get something to eat—you've _earned_ it, you've both earned it."

_"Marsh, party of three, please."_

"No, thank you." Robin's voice was polite but firm.

The noise and chatter in the crowded waiting area had died down to nothing as the exchange penetrated the room to be replaced by an under swell of murmurs "That's Robin." "And that's Wonder Girl with him." "'Think they're dating?" "Did you see the news tonight? Holy crap!" "…Dr. Blood…" "…'Could have been killed…" "…They're just kids…" "…Oh, she's lovely…"

Robin and WG were just about to get up and simply leave, embarrassed, when a man in a suit came over and introduced himself as the owner. "I think my customers this evening would like you to be seated in the dining room and, I may be mistaken, but I don't think we'll be able to seat anyone else until you're at a table."

The waiting crowd started applauding and, with little choice, the two Titans allowed them selves to be led inside for their dinner, wishing they'd opted for McDonald's instead. "And I insist that you're my personal guests this evening, your meal is on me, personally—no, I insist."

The show over, the two were, mostly, left alone to finally eat something. "That was really nice of them, wasn't it?" He nodded, yes it was. "But, Dick, from now on, I swear to God, any meal I eat with you will be take out."

"Or home delivery. You got it."

***

It was spring and Robin was there as part of the GCPD as a show of force. They hoped they wouldn't be needed and it was considered a simple precaution incase some idiot got some stupid idea in their moron brain and wanted to cause trouble. It was Pride Day and the Gotham gays were out in force, the parade was moving smoothly with decorated floats, the Dykes on Bikes contingent, costumes, music and the unseasonably warm weather putting everyone in a good mood and minimal clothing.

In fact the city was having a good day so far, good will seemed to be the prevailing mood and so far so good. Parents had their kids there, balloons and hot-dog vendors were everywhere, dogs in their own costume contest were on leashes and seeming to enjoy the party as much as the masters.

He had no problem with gays—less than no problem. Hell's bells, he'd been raised in a circus, in show business. This was just another day at the office as far as he was concerned—and one with a lot less chance of getting shot than usual. This was practically a play day and he was enjoying himself as much as anyone.

Looking down the block, having just crossed the street and headed right towards him was someone wearing a bright pink Chanel inspired two piece woman's suit; Jacket, straight knee length skirt and heels complimented by a pink pillbox hat on top of the dark hair.

"James, you look nice today."

"Oh sweetie, some days a girl just wants to dress up and feel special." The six-footer leaned over to kiss Robin's cheek, threatening a case of razor burn. "You take care of yourself, honey, don't do anything I wouldn't."

"…That's leaving it pretty wide open, James."

He laughed, a high trill as he stepped away then moved on to greet friends. "Oh, sweetie, you know it!"

Robin smiled, James was okay; the day was starting out fun.

***

Winter and it was freezing; even Robin was wearing a full set of leathers in an effort to prevent hypothermia. He pulled his new Ninja onto the sidewalk in front of GCPD City Headquarters, the only possible parking and he was in a hurry. A couple of cops immediately came over to him as he started to get off the machine. Damn, the bike was brand new, he hadn't had time to get the custom paint or even the 'R' on his leathers; he looked like any jerk parking illegally.

"You can't leave that here."

He pulled the helmet off, "Sorry—I'll just be a couple of minutes, honest."

"Didn't you just hear me, kid? You can't park here; 'you deaf or stupid?"

"Sorry, but honest, I'll just be like ten minutes, tops." He wasn't sure he was going to get away with this.

"Robin? Oh shit, man—it's really you? Hey Jimmy, get over here a minute." Another cop joined them as Rob dismounted his bike.

"Whoa, Dude, I saw what you did to the Joker last week; let me shake your hand—it's a real pleasure to meet you."

"You make us proud, Boss." The first cop was holding out his hand for shaking as well.

He gave an embarrassed smile and nodded his thanks both to the cops and to whatever God was watching over him this morning. "'It okay if I leave this here? I really won't be more than like five minutes, just have to drop off some paperwork for the Commissioner."

"Sure, sure, anything you want, we'll keep an eye on it for you."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"Five minutes, right? Otherwise I gotta write you up, kid…policy, you know how it is."

Robin nodded and sighed. Policy. Dammit.

***

He was sitting on the edge of the big fountain in the huge courtyard of Gotham Center for the Performing Arts, waiting for Speedy to show up. It was an easy meeting spot and they had plans to spend the weekend camping but if he didn't get his butt here soon they'd get caught in the Friday afternoon traffic leaving the city and then they might as well forget it. Roy was, of course, late.

Robin was just sitting, not bothering anyone, just idly people watching and trying to ignore the fact that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, more than eight hours ago. His stomach was rumbling and he really wanted to get started.

Then he saw the family of tourists about thirty feet away notice him and inwardly groaned as they all got out their cameras, snapping away without stop. The four people—Mom, Dad and two adolescent daughters—were each taking a different angle…click…click...clickclickclick

Well…crap.

Okay, it wasn't like this had never happened before, right? Suck it up; ignore them, maybe throw them a halfhearted smile and they'd go away, this was practically part of the job description.

No biggie, 'happened all the time.

"Mom, mom—_you_ ask him, _please_???" He heard the whispered hissing from one of the daughters.

Autographs? Wanting to take a picture with him? He sighed to himself.

The thirty-five-ish woman in mom-jeans tentatively came closer, the rest of the family hanging back. He gave her a neutral look while she came closer, waited a moment while she screwed up her nerve. He lowered his eyes; blatantly pretending he was reading the newspaper on his lap, pretending he didn't see the woman. It worked; she lost her nerve and went back to her family. Robin could hear the complaints and whining, "Mom..._please_."

The girls hadn't stopped clicking pictures the entire time. Click, click, clickclickclick. He heard one of the daughters talking on her phone, "…You won't _believe_ who's sitting right in front of me, I _swear_ to _God_—_look!_" The camera phone was pointed at him; he mentally sighed and ignored it.

Minutes went by. Robin turned to the editorial page and kept reading. Five minutes passed.

Clickclickclick. A slight breeze ruffled the paper.

Finally his cell phone rang, "Yes? Good, about time. I'll be there in a minute." Roy was waiting in the parking garage about half a block away; Robin stood up to leave.

Clickclickclick. The girl with the camera phone was still focused on him.

They started following.

Clickclickclick.

Clickclickclick.

Clickclickclick.

It continued for at least ten straight minutes without let up as Robin made his way through the summer tourist crowd, over to the street and waited for the too long light to change.

He partially turned, shifting his eyes back over to the family group, his face and manner mild, his voice polite. Clickclickclick. "Don't you think you maybe have enough pictures now?" The cameras lowered, the owners stunned beyond words he was actually speaking to them—in person and everything, amazed he'd even noticed them, f'God'ssake. "Thank you." He gave them the barest half smile as the light changed, leaving them behind as he crossed the street.

"Ohmigod, he's sooo gorgeous!—he's _amazing_!"

"Did you hear his _voice_? Ohmigod!"

"He smiled at _me_!"

"Did not."

"Sooo did."

"Girls, girls, behave, he seemed like a very nice young man and you'll annoy him if you keep this up."

"Oh Mom—God, you're so _embarrassing!"_

"I wonder where he's going…let's follow him."

"…I bet he won't like that."

"He won't know, we'll stay waaaay back."

The mother protested. "Really, leave him _alone_, we've bothered him _enough_!" But her daughters were already half way down the next block, following and ducking into the parking garage about a hundred feet behind their target. Hearing the elevator moving up to the second level they ran up the metal staircase, arriving just in time to see Robin nod to whomever he was meeting. Some hot guy, a redhead was leaning against the front fender of a sports car…

"_Ohmigod—Speedy!"_ Clickclickclick. _"Can we have your autograph—please???"_

Speedy rolled his eyes at his friend, "Christ, Rob—what the _hell_ is it with you and underage chicks?"

The girls saw Robin toss him a filthy look as they both slammed their cars doors moments before the car peeled out. The sisters were left standing there, listening to the car disappear down the ramp and pull onto the street. "Jerks."

"Totally."

"Just like any of the guys in school."

"Worse."

"Creeps." They headed back to their parents. "The kids are soooo not gonna believe this."

They both dissolved into giggles. "…Awesome!"

***

Hot day, blazing. Brutal. The kind of day you wanted to either be immersed in air conditioning or a cool lake. Unfortunately Robin was assigned to a meet and greet in the park—a kind of gesture to the community, a PR thing to let people know that the cops were people and really w ere on their side. Of course not everyone believed it, but they were doing the best they could.

Jesus, it was hot.

Robin had been shaking hands and signing autographs for at least three hours and he needed a break. He really did. The bottled water they were being supplied with was now past warm and he might as well just put a tea bag in it or use it to hard-boil an egg. Fine—he really needed a break so he made as subtle exit he could and crossed the street to a mom and pop deli that would have soda or something—anything—cold.

Walking in he headed straight to the refrigerators along the back wall, picked out a large bottle of coke and started back to the counter to pay. He'd half noticed the two kids, maybe twelve years old, who seemed to be doing the same thing he was, minus the part about stopping to pay the woman behind the register.

The kids exchanged a look as they saw Robin glance at them then walk past, their faces showing defeat. Pulling a couple of dollars out of their pockets, they reluctantly handed over their money.

1/3/09

11


End file.
